


Unicorn Turds (part 8)

by jennamacaroni



Series: Unicorn Turds [8]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennamacaroni/pseuds/jennamacaroni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana Lopez has been crushing on Brittany Pierce since she was a first year.  But Brittany is the most popular girl in school and a star quidditch player, and Santana is practically invisible…  Harry Potter AU Brittana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unicorn Turds (part 8)

**Author's Note:**

> two parts in one day, holy smokes! i’m telling you, SO MANY HP feels i am not equipped. also i didn’t edit this one much, sorry ‘bout it.
> 
> thanks for spending part of your day in my head.

The next morning, Santana looks for Brittany at breakfast, but there’s no sign of her at the Ravenclaw table or anywhere else in the Great Hall.

“…and if it wasn’t for Finn, we’d all be serving detention today and doing Merlin knows what,” Rachel lectures, pointing a finger at Santana, Mercedes and Sam one after the other, her tone dripping with condescension as if she were against the idea of a party from the very beginning.

She wasn’t.

“…scooping up blast-ended-skrewt poop was dreadful enough the first time, thank you very much,” Rachel begrudges, mostly to herself, but Finn nods along all the same.

“Look, all that matters is that Finn gave us enough warning to get out before Filch showed up. We’re all going home in an hour anyways, so let’s enjoy our last breakfast,” Mercedes says warningly from across the table, rubbing away a headache at the bridge of her nose. She looks like she’s seen better mornings and Santana hides her grin in her goblet of pumpkin juice.

“Well, while we’re on the topic, how exactly _did_ you get out last night, Santana?” asks Rachel, her inflection dripping with knowing a juicy secret.

“And with _whom_?” adds Mercedes, raising her eyebrows accusingly, a forkful of pancake hovering just outside her mouth.

“I totally saw her talking with Brittany.”

Leave it to Tina to finally pipe up at this very moment. Santana looks down to her eggs, feeling three pairs of eyes boring into her forehead. Her face is getting hotter by the second and she swallows a mouthful before answering.

“Um yeah, I was with Brittany. She had just shown up and we were going to get a drink,” she explains, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for her, Santana Lopez, to be casually chatting with Brittany Pierce, Ravenclaw hero.

“And then you what when Mike set off the powder?” Mercedes still hasn’t eaten that forkful and Santana watches the syrup drip down onto the plate in long, thin strands.

“I took her out the trap door. You know, we _always_ make sure to wish for the trap door. Under that gaudy throne thing? By that portrait of the nuns?” Santana watches the looks of realization ripple across her friend’s faces and rolls her eyes. “Then we made it down to the fourth floor corridor before she went on Prefect duty and I went up to our room to pack. Nothing happened.”

Santana tries in vain to prevent the smile from twitching at the corner of her lips, but Mercedes and Rachel squeal simultaneously and Santana knows she’s been caught.

“Santana Lopez, you tell us what you are hiding this instant or I will steal that golden snitch I know she gave you and toss it into the desecrated Room of Hidden Things,” Rachel warns, a sassy hand on her hip and indignant look on her face.

“She gave you the snitch?” Finn pokes his oafish head over the table around Rachel with his mouth hanging open. “From the finals? The quidditch championship, House Cup-winning, kick-the-Gryffindors-right-between-the-teeth golden snitch?”

Santana hadn’t really thought of it that way.

It is true that Brittany’s game-winning catch scored Ravenclaw house enough points to beat out Gryffindor for the House Cup. And it did just happen less than 24 hours ago. Santana would do well by her friends and everyone else in her house to remember that.

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

They all blink as if they had never seen her before, except Rachel, who is nothing but smug.

“I may have accidentally cast a silent _arresto momentum_ spell when Brittany was knocked off her broom and maybe saved her life? That’s a long way to free-fall and it kind of just… happened. Then she figured out somehow that I did it, and voila.” Santana pulls the snitch from her pocket and flashes it briefly.

“Smooth,” Sam commends, reaching across the table to give Santana a high-five.

Before Santana knows it, Rachel has moved on to babbling gossip with Tina and Mercedes concerning the other events witnessed at the party and Santana half-listens to Sam and Finn debate who will win the quidditch World Cup and whether Holland truly has what it takes this year.

_____

Santana doesn’t see Brittany on her way out of the castle or during the carriage ride to Hogsmeade Station. Her stomach sinks with a swoop.

_____

She finds Quinn in an otherwise open compartment and Rachel, Mercedes, Finn and Sam file in after her. Santana wants to pretend to sleep to avoid having to talk anymore, but she also doesn’t want to miss the chance that Brittany is on Prefect patrol and may pass through the carriage.

“…and what about you, Santana?” Rachel asks. Santana looks dumbly toward her and realizes she hasn’t been listening to anything that her friends are talking about.

“Hey, space cadet!” Quinn snaps her fingers nearly on top of Santana’s nose. “Get it together. She’s not even within gawking distance. The least you could do is be present with us. Wizard’s Chess. Winner buys from the snack trolley.”

“Fine,” Santana agrees, mostly because chess is a lot of thinking, a lot of distraction and not a lot of talking.

_____

“Checkmate.”

Santana groans and reaches for her pursestring as the carriage door slides open to reveal the snack trolley. Quinn takes one of everything and cackles at Santana as she hands over the correct change, frowning as she reaches for a chocolate frog and settles back into the seat.

She pulls open the side of the box carefully, readying her hand as she cracks open the lid and grabs swiftly at the frog before it has the chance to spring for freedom. Gotcha, she thinks, satisfied. She hasn’t always been so lucky.

When the spell wears off and she’s munching on chocolate, Santana pulls the card out from the bottom of the box. A seventeen year old Harry Potter stares back at her, a quiet smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, eyes a vibrant and friendly green. Her eyes move unconsciously to to the scar on his forehead, which is faintly pink and just visible beneath his disheveled black mop of hair. _The Boy Who Lived_.

Santana wonders what it would have been like to have been in school during the war. Classmates with Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Would she have fought alongside them in the Battle of Hogwarts? Would she had lived if she had? It’s daunting what they had to face so young. Santana feels a swell of pride for being a Gryffindor.

She watches as the moving picture of Harry reaches up to push his glasses slightly higher onto his nose when a flash of blonde flashes through her periphery. Santana’s eyes find Brittany quick as lightning, her long frame leaning lazily against a compartment door and chatting amicably with someone Santana doesn’t recognize.

“I, um,” Santana starts, fumbling over her own tongue. “I’ve gotta pee,” she finishes, standing quickly and slipping out of the compartment door.

Brittany catches her eye over the stranger’s shoulder and ends the conversation quickly, smiling brightly before moving in Santana’s direction.

“Well, fancy seeing you here,” Brittany drawls in her best wild west accent. “May I escort you somewhere on this here train?”

“Oh actually, I came out here to see you,” Santana answers, shyly. Santana thinks watching Brittany’s ears turn pink is one of her favorite things.

“Well, in that case, want to come see the Prefect’s digs? We get our own train car, although we hardly ever use it.” Brittany’s easy smile disarms Santana quickly and she can only nod, following Brittany down the length of the train and wishing she could grab her hand.


End file.
